The Boy With No Name
by xxIAmTheSkyxx
Summary: I'm just a college student with family issues, looking for his place in the world and yearning for a normal life. Thus, everyday real-life problems are a foreign concept to me. But one day I ran into a strange kid, and he proceeded to turn my already-complicated life all kinds of upside down. Rated T for now.
1. I Disown My Own Mother

_IT'S ABOUT TIME I STARTED ON THIS THING. GOD._

_Ahem._

_Anyway, I'm sorry for making you guys wait so long. It's finally here; the story that I had held above your heads for practically a year! This makes it a grand total of three (well, technically four, or five if you want to be super-nitpicky) ongoing stories on my plate as of today! So obviously, expect slow updates for any one of them. I'm really pushing my limits here, but this is good practice for the future! Yep._

_This story is rated T for now, but I may raise it later in the story, because what I'm planning for this might make this story a little darker. Hope you enjoy this first chapter!_

**Ch. 1: I Disown My Own Mother**

I hate my mom. I really do.

Not that it matters to her, really. It's not like she ever liked me, either. She just freely used me like I was some pawn of hers on a chessboard – something she could easily sacrifice for the sake of her goal. As such, she couldn't give so much as a damn for _my_ goals. She just uses me as she sees fit, like I have no feelings or dreams of my own. As much as I call her out on it, it hardly ever does me any good. If something goes wrong – _boom_, I go down alone.

In fact, she's done it several times already. But more on that later.

Right now, my mom was trying to get me to do something crazy – again. It involved hacking this time. Don't ask me to where, because if I told you, then my jail time would end up being even longer than it normally would be – maybe even lifetime, and I do have a life I would very much like to live without being in the confines of a jail cell. Not to mention, what the hell are you gonna get out of me telling you this anyway? Just a whole lot of me sitting behind bars. I don't think you want that. (If you do, then you're a sick bastard. Yes, I just said that. Got a problem?)

At first, I went along with it to appease her – if anything, I didn't want to invoke her wrath. I didn't know why she kept making me do these…questionable things, but it was better than getting her mad at me. You have to understand – she isn't your average abusive mother. Sheesh, I'd welcome one by this point.

But once I got older, she trusted me with some…unsettling information (like I said; I'll delve into that later), and that made me question what she was making me do. Like today; she was forcing me to hack a computer system. I've asked her about this again and again, but she wouldn't offer any further explanation.

This, though, was the final straw. I was _nineteen years old_, and I still couldn't think for myself about what was right and wrong. That's utter bullshit! I wasn't taking this anymore. I was putting my foot down today, and all the pent-up frustration over the years was going to back me on this.

I slapped the silver laptop closed and tossed against the wall – cable and all. It probably messed up the hard drive inside and busted up the screen, but honestly I couldn't give a crap. On other occasions I would've been majorly annoyed at myself. I mean, it was a seriously expensive laptop, and I bought it with my own money. But at the moment, I was too busy directing all that annoyance at Miss Manipulator to really care. And besides, I could get its hard drive wiped and repaired, even replaced if necessary, so it wasn't too big of a deal.

And it seriously pissed off my mom, so there was a bonus, too. It was to the point that I didn't care _how_ mad she was at me.

"To hell with this," I growled as I turned on her. "I'm not doing any more of this crap for you. You make me do something illegal, I get caught, and I have to serve _your_ damn jail time. And after all that, you have the freaking _gall_ to make me do it again? What do you think I am, some kind of emotionless robot? Did you really think that I wouldn't feel _guilty_ about any of this? Christ, I can't even remember why I agreed to do this for you in the first place! I'm done helping when you won't even tell me what all this law-breaking is even going to accomplish other than completely ruin my future! I'm done!" I throw down the mouse I'd been holding in my hand through this rant for good measure before glaring at her furiously. If I start to sound repetitive, that's because it's necessary – she won't listen if I only rant about something once.

And of course, as per usual, she didn't give two shits about what I just yelled at her about – she was more upset that she'd watched me break a very expensive laptop – which happened to be hers. Yes, I bought my mom her laptop. Say what you will or forever hold your peace.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" she hissed angrily. "Without that data, I –"

"There you go again, see?" I shot back bitterly. "You. It's always about you. Your goals are way more important than mine to you. You force me to help you get what _you_ want, but what about me? You probably don't even know what I want to do with my life, do you?"

She opened her mouth, probably ready to fling a retort, but I didn't give her the chance.

"You're just using me like I'm your plaything in order to make your ends meet, and you never asked me even _once_ about what _I _want. And even aside from all that, you won't even tell me what the reason for all this illegal stuff even is, and you still expect me to keep helping you!" I kicked the mangled computer a couple feet away, right into my mom's shins. Cue aghast expression.

"That's enough!" she screeched like the harpy she was. "How dare you say such things to my face! This is only for your own good –"

"Like hell it is!" I spat. "I can't see how becoming an S-class criminal is for my own good in any way, because jack shit has come out of it that's even remotely positive! I'm not risking anything for you anymore if you won't explain anything!" I grabbed my schoolbag and jacket, and stood. "I'm leaving," I declared, glaring at her and daring for her to stop me. "If you ever come near me or try to talk to me again, I'm going to get a restraining order on you."

I brushed past her roughly and headed straight for the front door. I was lucky that this was just a small apartment, because it would have taken longer to escape her otherwise. She tailed me all the way to the front door and tried to stop me, but I brushed off every attempt she threw. Once I started putting my shoes on, she was on her last straw.

"You can't do this to me!" she shrieked. "I am your mother! Do as I say!"

I paused midway through the door once she said this, unable to fight off the incredulity I felt upon hearing those words. It was also partly to bait her into thinking that I was changing my mind, because (I will fully admit here) I am an asshole and I just did it out of spite. After a couple seconds or so, I looked back at her, my gaze as cold as steel.

"Sorry," I said, not feeling sorry at all, "but you're not my mother."

I then proceeded to storm out and slam the door in her face.

* * *

I guess I should tell you who I am now. I didn't get a chance before because of the frustration I was doling out to that witch.

The name is Roxas. Roxas Conner, if you want the full of it. I'm just your average college guy with a criminal record spanning nearly ten years and a leading outlaw figure for a mother.

…Yes, I really did just say that. I've committed crimes of many degrees for over half my life, and my mom is on the Most Wanted list. (Don't worry; we didn't murder anyone.) And yes, she really is my mother in the sense that she gave birth to me and named me, but that's about as far as that image goes. I don't know who my father is, but that's probably for the best, because if I did know him, I'd track him down and punch him in the face for being a big enough moron to marry her (Granted, I wouldn't have even been born, but honestly I think that'd been better than this crappy life). I probably should be ashamed that I'm related to her by blood, and at the same time should have no right to be since I haven't exactly been a goody-two-shoes myself, either.

Most of you might think that having an action mom like that is cool stuff, but it's really not. The payoff just isn't worth it. Who wakes up one morning and says, "I want to raise my son to be a criminal and follow in my footsteps"? Seriously, no matter how cool your mom is, that's just not right.

Except that's pretty much what my mom did. She "trained" me to become a thief and tech wizard of sorts so I could help her, but even I know that's messed up – and _I_ was the one who was raised that way for as long as I could remember.

She at least sent me to school – if only so she could look like an ordinary mom out in public (God knows how she pulls that off). If she hadn't done that, then I probably would have turned out way worse than her. Going to school exposed me to positive influences that slowly but surely helped me see what I was doing wrong with my life. That's about all that I'm grateful for her doing in my life.

It's been about a week since that argument, and I haven't seen a trace of my mom since then, which was good. I had no I idea what I could do in the event of that happening, and my school life was way easier without her in the way.

Speaking of which, I live in a quiet suburban town, attending the local university that was actually the size of a community college, but hell – I didn't name the place. In either case, that place was one of my few spots of heaven in this otherwise crappy hellhole. It's one of the spots where I didn't have to worry about being an outlaw, because the people there either didn't know (the vast majority) or don't care (my circle of friends). I just feel so…_normal_ there, more than almost anywhere else. I love the days when I go to class, because it was my usual means of escape. I don't have _too_ many friends, but like they say – quality over quantity. The ones I do have are awesome, and I wouldn't trade them for anything.

In fact, I was speaking to one now. A fellow classmate, and my first and best as well as girlfriend – Naminé Hunter, the first person to not treat me like I was some juvenile delinquent (which, to be honest, I technically had been at one point). We've known each other since the elementary days, when we were paired by chance for an outdoor activity. Lady Luck had been on my side that day, because – as you can see – we were together now. Like my other friends, she knew all about my history, but she didn't let that get in the way.

Even so, the conversation that I was now holding with her wasn't of a very pleasant topic. We were in my car, and I was driving her home after class had ended. Since this was the first time since that fight that I'd seen her, I had to tell her the whole story from scratch. She was, to say the least, flabbergasted.

"So you ran out on her?" she was asking incredulously. "How?"

"Well…first I grabbed my stuff, then –"

"That isn't what I mean, Roxas."

Yikes, she didn't even give me a chance to be sarcastic about it.

"Okay, fine," I conceded, lifting my hands briefly from the steering wheel for a placating gesture. "But seriously, she was being a bitch. I'll be lucky to never have to see her again."

Naminé shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know whether I should be relieved that you're done with all this law-breaking, or upset that you left your mom in order to do it."

"I don't know about you, but I'm damn relieved," I sighed, resting my head against the seat. "I don't want to be a criminal, I don't want to pay any more fines, and I sure as hell don't want to serve any more jail time. I just want to live a normal, clean life for once."

"But your mom –" she started to say, but I immediately interrupted her.

"Quit saying that!" I snapped a little louder than I'd meant to. "She isn't my mom, she never was, and she _never will be!_" I managed lower my voice a bit to avoid a full-on argument as I went on, "Look, can we please drop the subject? I'm not in the mood for this."

Naminé pursed her lips for a second, and then she changed the subject. I loved this about her; she was thankfully a person who respected other people's wishes.

"Do you have anything planned for tonight?" she asked me.

"Actually, I have some last-minute physics stuff to cram," I lied without missing a beat. Having been raised by a person who pilfered and fibbed on a regular basis, lying was something that came to me easily. I didn't like lying to my girlfriend like this (it's a great way to ruin a relationship), but this situation called for it no matter how uncomfortable I got. Even this tiny lie to her made me feel bad.

"Oh." She looked disappointed, making me feel even worse. Why do girls always make everything so complicated? It's even worse when you know they're not doing it on purpose. "I see…when are you free, then?"

I actually had practically nothing to do all week (and that aforementioned physics work? I finished that before the initial lecture was over), but the only reason I'd lied about it in the first place was that I just needed some time alone for a little while longer. I mean, sure I ran out on my mom voluntarily, but it would still take a bit of time for that to sink in, so I really, really needed some space for this week. But since nothing good ever comes out of lying further (trust me, I know), I caved and told her the truth.

"Well…" I cleared my throat before going on. "I actually need some time to myself this week…if that's okay with you." This relationship thing feels so delicate. Guys, you make one wrong move, and you're dead – because women are fickle, vengeful creatures. Take my word for it.

Thankfully, though, Naminé wasn't one of them. At least, I thought that she wasn't.

"Oh, is that all?" she said in a teasing voice. "You could've just said so. Come on, learn to tell the truth every once in a while, Roxas. It's good for you."

"You would know," I chuckled embarrassedly.

"Very funny." Despite her words, her eyes were twinkling with warmth. "But don't worry, I understand. If you need anything, then just let me know, okay?"

God, I love her.

"Sure," I said. "But aren't you the only person I go to for help?"

Naminé pushed my shoulder playfully. "Don't push it, Roxas."

"No promises." I grinned mischievously.

She simply rolled her eyes at that.

Once I reached her place, I made sure to keep quiet as I parked next to her driveway, because I didn't want to attract any…_unwelcome_ attention, so to speak. She gathered her things as I cut the engine as silently as possible.

"Thanks for bringing me home," she thanked me as we both exited the car.

"Anytime."

I walked her to the front door (I've been doing that ever since she drilled it into my head once we got together), and once she was at the door and she'd brought her house key out, I gave her a light peck on the cheek. "Love you," I said quietly.

Naminé giggled as she brought me in for a quick hug. "Love you more," she whispered back before releasing me. "I'll be seeing you next week?"

"Yeah. Until then."

I watched as she unlocked her door and went inside. Once the door was closed, I made a speedy yet silent beeline for the driveway (yet another skill I picked up over the years of burglary). I got into my car and started the engine as quickly as I could, and sped away from the house. I breathed a sigh of relief once the house was no longer visible in the rearview mirrors.

I know; I've got no reason to be afraid of anything that was at my girlfriend's house. But there is. You'll probably see what (or who) it is later.

As I continued to drive, my mind began to wander. I again started thinking about my mom and how she was dealing with this situation (though honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to not really mind me gone), all the run-ins with the law I'd had in the past, and how my life would change now that I had decided to put all that business aside. My problems would become more mundane, slice-of-life issues – grades, girls, bills, getting a job to pay said bills, and actually getting out into the real world as a normal citizen instead of some reject. That would no doubt be the toughest thing for me – just trying to become a regular part of society, like every other law-abiding citizen.

If only I'd known how very wrong I was.

* * *

_Okay, this chapter turned out a little more…"vent-y" than I'd anticipated, especially in the beginning. Because, you know, being yelled at isn't fun, and we want to yell back to defend ourselves, right?_

_Either way, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter to __The Boy With No Name__. It's been way too long from announce date to publish date, and I deeply apologize for the wait. This story will be running alongside __Sight__, __The Last Outsider__, and eventually __Parasites__ and __Brotherhood Chronicles: Operation C.L.O.U.D__. I thank all of you for your support!_

_Now back to the chapter – I'd like to know your opinions on the characters I have ready here. What was good, what was bad, what was interesting, what was dull; all the usual stuff. I appreciate all feedback, and thanks in advance! :)_

_See you next chapter! And don't worry; they will get longer! Trust me! ;)_

_(Oh, and before you ask. Roxas's mom is going to be an unnamed OC, so don't bother guessing her identity.)_


	2. I Suffer A Heart Attack No, Really

_It's been forever since I've updated this. Fans and followers, I am so sorry. I don't know what happened; my muses for this story inexplicably vanished in the last couple months over other stories. Not to mention I was kind of hesitant to write this chapter for some reason I can't explain. It was the first time in a while I felt like that, so I must really be self-conscious about this story._

_In either case, no apology can make up for this huge gap in updates. I just hope that this chapter will tide you over a little bit._

**Ch. 2: I Suffer A Heart Attack. No, Really.**

Life has a real funny way of working most of the time.

It's the truth; strange things happen to you and they change your life into what it was meant to be, and such instances can't be called coincidence. In other cases, different decisions don't really mean much when it comes to your future at first glance. It kind of ranges from being insignificant to being life-changing, like it was some sliding scale of change, with various degrees of "good" and "bad" wedged in between.

Three guesses on what I got on the Change of Life Scale, and the first two guesses don't count.

It started with a hole in the wall.

* * *

Today was a Saturday, and I had no weekend classes or illegal activities planned to bother me, so I decided to head out of my apartment and enjoy the fresh air.

Now when I say that, I don't mean just waltz out of my living quarters and take a stroll through town. When you've got a reputation as bad as mine, you need to take care and stay out of sight and not give anybody any reason to suspect you of something going wrong. Believe me; one time I walked past a bakery that had a malfunctioning oven and smoke was coming out of the windows, about half of the people in the vicinity were shooting me dirty looks, like maybe I'd hot-wired the heating system of the place or something to make their bread burn.

It's irrational, obviously, but it comes with the notoriety. People don't want to think any problem is their fault, so they look for a person to blame. To add, I was possibly the go-to scapegoat in this town, because the townspeople knew my history – but only vaguely. They knew I had lots of run-ins with the law, but the media kept the details secret (okay, more like I hacked into their database and wiped all the sensitive information so nothing would get leaked) so they don't know the extent to which I'd committed crimes. But since I was pretty infamous for appearing in the paper for criminal acts anyway, the citizens of Twilight Town looked to me as their safe way out of guilt.

A gas leak in a restaurant stove? My fault. A cup of water spilled onto the floor? My fault. A crack in the asphalt road that made somebody's car dip into the ground slightly? My fault. It's stupid just how far people would take things just to look good in front of others – I couldn't have been responsible for any of those things since I was a recluse otherwise.

And that's the thing about living in a town – everybody knows you, and if you happen to have a criminal record like mine, you're immediately pegged as the "lowlife" in the town and people make up crazy rumors about you even if they're totally implausible. It was because of that I had set up a safe haven of sorts just barely at the outskirts of town if I ever wanted to go out and enjoy the breeze for a while without having to deal with cold stares and low whispering behind my back.

It was just a small clearing in the outside alleyways of Twilight Town, the size of a two-car garage space framed by red brick walls on every side, one of which was the side of a hardware store. That was how I normally got in there in the first place.

I didn't have to worry about sneaking in or anything, because my cousin ran the place – a (recent) college dropout by the name of Squall Leonhart, but he insisted that everyone call him Leon because he hates his first name (which I could totally understand; my uncle must've been drunk out in the rain or something when he came up with that name). Being the nosy family member that he was, he knew all about my being a criminal. He didn't hold it against me, though, because he'd somehow figured out that I hadn't committed them willingly.

In addition to that whole "my-cousin-is-a-former-international-criminal-but- I-don't-give-a-crap" attitude, Leon was just about the most understanding guy on this entire planet. He was so good at reading people that I sometimes wondered why he didn't study to become a psychiatrist or something. I chalked him up to being antisocial and not very motivated (though his friendliness levels are so high I'm starting to question myself about that first part), and he's got more patience than anyone else I knew.

He wasn't too hard on the eyes, either. His shoulder-length brown hair framed a face that made most girls his age go crazy (he even gets asked out a couple times on a weekly basis, but he isn't interested in girls so he always turns them down). There was a scar across the bridge of his nose that he'd gotten when he'd crashed into a parked car with his bike (long story), which apparently made him look tougher. Of course, working in a hardware store meant that he was naturally well-toned and muscular, so that was also a plus. Most girls also tended to ignore the weird fact that he has a huge collection of belts that he wears at every given opportunity/excuse.

Hey, I'm not a girl. I wouldn't know.

In short, he was everything that I wasn't. Frankly, I'm surprised that I even have a girlfriend at all.

A bell jingled as I opened the door to the run-down building and walked in. Leon was standing behind the counter rearranging some power tools on the back wall. He looked over his shoulder to see who had come in, and he grinned in that knowing way of his when he saw who it was.

"Hey there, cousin," he greeted me easily as I strode up to the counter, turning back to the power tool wall. "Another one of those getaway days? How many people blamed you for their problems this time?"

As you can see, he can be a bit of an annoyance sometimes. "That depends," I said dryly. "How many girls have asked you out this week?"

Leon laughed at that. "Man, I never get tired of that sharp tongue."

"Then maybe you'll get tired of it if I make it dull."

"Very funny, wise guy," he grunted as he shoved a one-handed drill into a slot. "Seriously, though; did something happen or what? You look bothered by something."

See what I said about this guy being good at reading faces? He's better than some of the actual therapists out there. It was both gratifying and frustrating at the same time – it was easier on your psyche since you didn't need to say anything and he just plucked all the answers out of your expression, but you'd be upset that you were so easily read even though you were doing your best to hide it. A double-edged sword only for the receiving end, which was totally unfair. He was the only person besides Naminé that could tell what I was really thinking most of the time.

"Uh-huh," I sighed, resting my elbows on the counter as I watched Leon do his job. "Well, I kind of disowned my mom about a week ago. Does that count as bothersome?"

"Honestly, in your case, it's actually refreshing, right?" Man, I loved talking to him sometimes. You can say something like, "I drowned my dog" bluntly and he doesn't judge you outright. He should totally go back to school and study psychology. "Though I guess that's bothersome in its own sense. Did you really go and do it?"

"Of course I did. Why the hell would I be joking about this, Leon?"

He turned back around and studied my face for a minute or two as he leaned over the counter. His stare was so penetrating I had to suppress the urge to move back, but he straightened up after another pause.

"Okay then," he allowed. "You really are telling the truth."

"Duh."

"So what's the situation? Or is it private?"

I stared down at my hands and tried not to sound guilty as I muttered, "Rather not talk about it, if that's okay." What the hell; why was I asking permission? "It was just a falling-out, that's all."

"And a pretty big one, it seems like," he noted. Damn it, Leon. Put yourself out of business and go to college. Get a degree and maybe you'll make a real living.

"Yeah, whatever," I said in clipped tones as I pushed away from the counter and headed to the back. "Can I go outside now?"

"Go ahead; feel free," he said easily, forgetting about the conversation we'd just had. This guy, I swear. "Give me a shout when you need to leave."

"I always do," I muttered as I smoothly moved around the counter to the back door. Once I opened the door, passed through, and closed it behind me, I let out a huge sigh of relief. I was finally alone in my little spot of heaven.

Like I mentioned before, this place was surrounded by brick walls on all sides. There was a hole in the left adjacent wall to the door, but unless you were really small or really flexible, no person could fit through it – and the walls were too high for any normal person to scale. I could leap and climb over it if I wanted, but I usually don't like to. It was too much work just to get away from people, and going through the store is more normal. The rest of the place was worn, cracked asphalt with weeds growing in between the cracks, and the place was actually worn to the point that there was a fine layer of sand in the area, so if you were running (there shouldn't be any reason to; there aren't a whole lot of places you can run to here) you could slip and hurt yourself. There was a patch of sand about the size of a basketball backboard near the middle of the tiny lot littered with rocks, more weeds, and bits of glass (don't know how they got there). There was a plastic folding chair that my cousin brought out so I could just sit and stare up at the blue square of sky above me.

I proceeded to drop into that chair and do just that. I stared up at the sky, which looked a deeper shade of blue from here (usually), and today was no exception. A couple clouds broke the blue, but that was fine. It looked more alive that way.

While I stared up at the sky, trying to clear my mind of stress, I heard a sudden scuffle that broke into my thoughts. It seemed like it was coming from the other side of the wall in front of me – the one with the hole. I stared at the wall – or more specifically, the hole – in order to try and discern what was happening on the other side. I could see several people through the hole, but I could only see a dense thicket of white legs from where I was. My curiosity got the best of me, and I slowly crept forward as I listened in on what was going on.

"…we found the kid!" a deep male voice was saying. "We've got him cornered here!"

"Block that hole; don't let him escape!" another voice shouted. This one also sounded male, but a bit younger and huskier.

"Hold onto him so I can get a clear shot!" a third ordered. This person sounded like a young woman. "We can't afford any mistakes this time!"

By now I'd reached the hole, and I peered through.

What I saw shocked me.

Granted, I still couldn't see much because of the legs, but I managed to pick out three people in what looked like white hazmat suits. One set of legs was right in front of the hole, blocking it off. One of them was holding what seemed to be a tranquilizer gun (believe me, I've seen enough of them to know what I'm talking about), and was aiming it at something in front of her. The third one moved away slightly, and I got a clearer view of what the one with the gun was aiming at.

It was a kid.

Okay, that forced me into a couple of double-takes, blinking, and rubbing of the eyes in order to make sure I wasn't seeing things, but my eyes weren't fooling me – they were holding a freaking _kid_ (a boy, I guessed from the physique) at _gunpoint_. He couldn't have been older than fifteen, and these three weirdoes were trying to shoot him. I couldn't see above the chest, but I could still tell that it was a boy. No mistake. His feet were bare, and as a result were dirty, scratched, and bloody. He was wearing light pants from what I could make out, and it was ripped and flecked with dirt and oil. He looked like he'd been chased through a knife factory.

Now I don't know about you, but this is the kind of thing I just can't stand letting happen. I normally wouldn't get involved in these kinds of situations in the first place, because if I got caught…I wouldn't be getting off so easy.

But the moment I heard the telltale _click_ of the gun preparing to fire, I knew I only had seconds to decide upon a course of action – just sit through it and let it happen without getting involved, bolt into the store and get my cousin to call the cops, or jump into the fray and take matters into my own hands.

Before I could even think, I'd scaled the wall in front of me (I got a couple scratches; it's been a while since I've done this), and landed right in the middle of their little posse. Their reaction was priceless.

"Who –" the guy guarding the hole started to exclaim, but he didn't get to finish because I elbowed him in the gut before he could react. Since he was the smaller of the two men, he went down pretty easily. He fell to the asphalt with a groan from that one hit.

I turned to face the two remaining schmucks, and I went for the bigger guy. Lucky for me, he was still in shock from watching a college kid leap over the wall and knock out one of his guys, so I managed to grab his wrist, twist around him, knee him to the ground, and pin him there. This one wasn't as incompetent as the guy I'd just knocked out, because he started struggling to try and break free. How I managed to keep him there was anyone's guess, but hell, I wasn't going to complain.

"Who are you?!" he grunted from his spot on the ground, spitting gravel from his mouth. "Where the hell did you come from?!"

"Just a kid passing by," I answered as I twisted his wrist even more, causing him to yelp in pain, "one who happened to not approve of what you're doing here, and one who's perfectly capable of _kicking your ass_."

"This is official business, kid!" the female shouted, turning to face me. "Don't interfere, or else I'm pulling the trigger!"

"A bit too late for that, don't you think?" I took a mental note about the fact that these people didn't seem to recognize me. They could've either been really underground, or just didn't care about criminals worse than they were.

"Wait a minute," the guy I'd pinned said slowly, turning his head as best as he could in his position. "I know you. That spiky blond hair…based in Twilight Town…you're that Roxas Conner kid!"

"Oh, so you know me, huh?" Scratch that; I guess they did know me. Well, crap. "My reputation precedes me."

"There's no criminal out there that doesn't know your name, kid," he muffled through a mouthful of dirt. "But I never expected to see you in person!"

"Well, sorry to break it to you," I said as I pinched a spot on his neck (I'm not telling you where; I don't want you getting any crazy ideas). "I don't give out autographs. Especially not to freaks who'd point guns at a kid."

His eyes rolled behind his head and he stopped moving. I got to my feet, dusted off my hands as I did so, and faced the woman. The kid was still there, right behind her and pressed against the wall. He was frozen in place, staring at me in utter fascination with unnaturally deep blue eyes, like he'd never seen another normal-looking person before. Now that I got a better look at him, he had spiky hair that made him look like he'd been chased out of bed.

The lady was staring at me in terror, her weapon rattling in her shaking hands. "Roxas Conner…Goddamn it…of all the –"

"Put the gun down, lady," I said severely. "I don't like hurting girls, but I'll go ahead and ignore my principles if you won't drop your weapon."

"I – I don't understand!" she spluttered, shaking all the harder. "Why are you stopping us?! This is –"

"I don't care what it is," I interrupted, taking a step closer. "All I care is that you were about to shoot a kid with a gun, and that doesn't sit well with me."

"Why would you care?!" she cried, pointing the gun at me now in her desperation. "Aren't you an outlaw like the rest of us?"

I lunged for her and secured her gun, pointing the barrel upward, and snatched her free hand so she couldn't make any sudden grab for any other weapon she might have had on her. I tightened my grip on her wrists as I leaned forward until we were practically nose to nose. Her face mask made it hard for me to make out her features, but I could see her terrified green eyes. She was pretty short, so I could easily hand her a stare-down.

"Don't even think about lumping me together with you guys," I breathed in a deadly quiet tone. "I'm not like you."

I then proceeded to rip the gun out of her hands and toss it over the wall I'd come from, leaving her weaponless. She was scared out of her wits now. She must've been a long-range type who was helpless without her weapon.

"You're the reason so many turned to crime," she said, possibly in a last bid to get me to drop my guard. "You can't do this to your followers!"

"Well, I guess you people need to start looking for a new cult figure," I replied coldly, "because I'm done with crime. Try living a virtuous life for once – they do you a whole lot better."

I released my hold on her and then rapidly slipped behind her back, locking her into a chokehold.

"Today just wasn't your day," I whispered into her ear before cutting off her air. She struggled for the next couple minutes – grabbing at my arms, her neck, my face – but eventually she stopped moving, and I finally let her go. I didn't realize how taxing this ordeal had been for me until I noticed that I was out of breath. I'd gotten out of shape thanks to a recently lackluster activity cycle.

"I need to get out some more," I muttered to myself before turning back to the kid. He was still staring at me in that mesmerized way. His abnormally blue eyes really unsettled me for some reason.

"Hey," I said, lowering myself so I saw eye to eye with him. "You okay? Hurt anywhere?"

He didn't answer me and just kept on staring, which was even weirder. Was this kid a mute? If he were, he'd still give some sort of reaction – a hand sign, a shake of the head, something. But he didn't move.

"Well, you obviously need help," I said as I straightened up. "Do you want to come with me?"

I didn't notice until it was too late, but his eyes suddenly focused on something behind me, and there was an emotion in there this time – terror.

I whirled around, but I couldn't react in time. The woman hadn't been as unconscious as I'd originally thought, and she'd grabbed a small handful of the darts that she would've used to load her tranquilizer gun and stabbed me in the chest with them – possibly four or five (I didn't exactly had the ample time to count how many darts she'd just got me with). I swatted off the darts and kicked her in the stomach in a knee-jerk reaction. She stumbled backward, hit her head on the opposite wall, and got knocked out for real.

"Hey, kid!" I called urgently. I could feel myself slipping already. My chest was seizing up and I could barely breathe. This woman must've filled these darts with some kind of venom, not anesthetics. "Get through that hole! You should fit!"

Even in that stupefied state of his, the kid must've realized that there was something wrong with me. He dashed to the hole and managed to crawl through.

I jumped and tried to scale the wall before the venom worked its way through my system too far, but it was no use. I only managed to get to the top. My heart suddenly stopped in a huge jab of burning pain and made me black out before I fell onto the glass-littered ground below me.

* * *

_Well, the second chapter is finally done. Was it worth the wait?_

_In either case, I'll try to work on this story more periodically. It still won't be updated as often as, say, __In The Shadow Of Summer__ or __Sight__, but I'll definitely try to churn these out faster. This story hold way too much potential for me to leave it hanging for you guys._

_I hope this chapter met your expectations. I'll hopefully see you guys again soon!_


End file.
